


Man on Fire

by macgyvershe



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Concern for John, Gen, Not going to happen, What's the worse that can happen?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-02
Updated: 2014-04-02
Packaged: 2018-01-17 23:12:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1406110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macgyvershe/pseuds/macgyvershe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John thinks that Sherlock is in house that blazing before him. Nothing will keep Sherlock from saving John from the fatal fire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Man on Fire

**Author's Note:**

> This is an earlier work. I hope you enjoy it.

Sherlock arrived at the scene of the house fire just in time to see John enter the erupting inferno.

“John, NO!” he screamed unheard above the cacophony of emergency vehicles and the roar of the fatal fire. “There’s no one in there!”

Sherlock charged towards the flames, but the arriving fire fighters held him back.

“You can’t go in there, Sir,” the fire fighter advised him, “it’s gone beyond…”

Sherlock didn’t let him finish, pushing through, he ran headlong into the fire to search for John.

Inside, roiling black smoke and incredible heat kept Sherlock on the floor, crawling on his belly.

“JOHN!” Sherlock shouted repeatedly. “John, come toward the sound of my voice.”

Sherlock couldn’t see, so he closed his eyes and sharpened his hearing. His brain sorted through the incoming data and deleted anything not pertinent to his search.

“Sher…”

He heard the tiny rasp of voice against the wall of sound that engulfed him. He moved toward it as fast as the fire would let him.

There, ahead of him, John lay crumpled beneath burning debris. Sherlock got to him shoving the debris away and pulling John along behind him as he scurried forward. The front of the building was totally engulfed, Sherlock had to find the back door or windows; any exit to the outside.

Kicking the back door open from the inside, Sherlock pulled John out, dragging him as far from the turmoil as he could. Gently, Sherlock began pressing on John’s extremities looking for obviously broken bones.

John took several deep breaths, coughed then looked up at Sherlock.

“Don’t you dare rip my clothes off, Sherlock. I’m okay. I’m totally okay. Just got the wind knocked out of me. Please get me out of here before the paparazzi start swarming us like locus.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

John nodded. Sherlock lifted John to his feet and half carried, half dragged him down the street. Soon enough they flagged came to the cab that Sherlock had come in.

Sherlock began texting. Immediately Sherlock Holmes sightings begin happening all over London, driving the paparazzi crazy and giving them time to get home without drama.

“Sherlock, you’re being far too quiet,” John commented as the cab hurried them home.

Sherlock leaned back as he put his mobile away.

“For a moment, John, I thought I’d lost you.”

John looked closely at Sherlock; there were tiny tremors in his hands. John knew how discomforted Sherlock was when he lost control.

John put his hand over Sherlock’s shaking one.

“I’m really okay; we’re going to be okay, Sherlock.”

Sherlock blinked away tears. Tears John knew were for him.

“I thought you might have been in that house, Sherlock, I’d never have gone in otherwise.” John said taking in a long breath.

“I know that.” Sherlock didn’t attempt to conceal his feelings.

John did something quite unexpected. He gripped Sherlock by his shoulders and looked him squarely in the eyes. “You can stop this, Sherlock. This isn’t you. You never feel anything.”

“It seems I’ve grown one of those disproportionate and disadvantageous hearts, John.” A smile that had little humor in it touched Sherlock’s lips.

It broke John’s heart. He sighed, tilling his head as he viewed the hero in his life, the man who had given him new purpose. How could he have brought Sherlock to this place? How could he help him over it?

“Sherlock, what we’ve become the friendship we share for each other. That shouldn’t bring you pain. You can’t let people see you like this. You have the ability to control. Control this. With me, you have no reason to hide your heart, but with others, you have to be as cold as ice. Otherwise, I become a hostage to our enemies, the easy way to destroy Sherlock Holmes. We can’t let that happen now.”

Sherlock’s eyes still glittered with tears as he tries to pull himself together.

“They already know, John.”

“Not about this, Sherlock. No one but me saw this.”

Norton their cab driver was a member of the homeless network and a former client. Because of assistance, they had rendered him in times past John knew that their conversation within the cab would go no further. Norton would keep their secret and they would always have a free taxi ride.

The cab reached Baker Street and they exited. They trudged up the narrow stairs and were once again ensconced in their comfortable home.

“By the way, thank you for saving my life.” John spoke softly.

Sherlock divested himself of his great coat and sat in his chair, John sitting across from him.

John could see that he was working hard to hold his emotions in check.

“You’re welcome,” he said. A bit of color came to his cheeks. The shock of nearly losing John was beginning to tamp down now that the event receded into the past.

John got up from his chair and crouched down in front of Sherlock. He placed his right hand over Sherlock’s heart. “Do this for me, to protect us both.”

Sherlock covered John’s hand. Now they could both feel the racing heart as it slowed in momentum. The heart that had known no passion, no zealous feelings, now beat for John.

“Here’s the problem, Sherlock. You have to project to the world the same cold, icy exterior that you’ve always portrayed. You have to hide this heart away; a heart that we both know exists. You have to find a way to do this, Sherlock.”

A problem, Sherlock had to solve it.

“I know you can take care of this,” John stood, taking his hand from Sherlock’s heart. Sherlock keeping contact with John’s hand for a long as he could, letting go only when he had to.

“I’m going to take a shower. I’ll be out in a bit.” John looked at Sherlock and gave him a warm smile as he exited the living room.

Sherlock gripped the arms of the chair. He closed his eyes. Instantly, he was back in the inferno of the house fire. Standing in the flames, untouched by the heat, he saw John trapped beneath the burning debris. He saw the second floor drop from above onto John, the fire unquenchable, burning John alive. He saw the long empty years of aloneness, his best and only friend taken from him. The rocket engine-on-the-launch-pad-mind scored and pitted with emotion that culled and broke it into fragmented pieces that were of no use to anyone. He saw the worse of all possible futures. He lived through it all, watching his essence dissipate into nothing. Alone without his John. Not going to happen. 

Back to reality, touching the heart that beat for John, Sherlock sent his mind surging into his thought palace; he found the bedroom that he’d built for John. He placed his heart there, knowing it would be safe and with a thought returned his mind to the flat. 

John came out into the living room wearing his silk robe, his hair still damp from his shower.

“How are you?” He asked with a look of concern on his face.

“Better,” Sherlock replied. The laser sharp eyes were back. The tremors were gone. Sherlock’s porcelain skin was unmarked by worry or care. The cold, calm of genius looked upon John and did not weep.

“Good, I didn’t think you could do it so quickly, but good.” John said taking his place beside Sherlock.

“You will always have unlimited access,” Sherlock said as he touched his heart.

“Brave the icy caverns of your mind to get to your heart again,” John said smiling playfully, “nothing will stop me, Sherlock.”

“Tea?” John asked as if nothing what so ever had happened, getting up to put the kettle on.

“Please.” Sherlock replied. John was safe, Sherlock’s heart was safe…next adventure—please!


End file.
